What We Are
by brandisnoot
Summary: Abigail Oglethorpe wanted a change of scenery so she ended up in Bristol, England. She wanted some peace and quiet after living in two major cities. Instead she meets someone would provide anything but that for her. [Mitchell x OC]
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to the Neighborhood

**_Hey, guys! Welcome to the first chapter of my latest fic! I hope everyone likes it. This took me a very long time to write and hopefully it doesn't take me that long to write any other chapters. Anyways, let me know what you all think!_**

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She liked the quiet. It made for a boring existence, and Abby cherished that prospect. Her parents didn't understand why she didn't just move to London. She loved the city, been there quite a few times over the years. Unfortunately, it was far too loud. Busy. She didn't fare too well with either of those anymore. Not after the past five years of her life. She needed peace and quiet. Nothing weird at all. Then again, her definition of weird had been expanded exponentially since she moved to New Orleans. A nice, mostly normal life is what she wanted. It's what she deserved.

The move was a smooth one, and that was a relief to her but not to her parents. They were kind of hoping it wouldn't, though they would never say that to her face. They gave her a month before she got bored with Bristol and returned to Savannah or moved to the city. She wouldn't stay in the light blue house with its two bedrooms, one bathroom, and tiny kitchen. They swore she was simply too used to a faster paced life than she was giving herself. Savannah was not a slow paced environment. It was a tourism city with the historic district, big fancy homes like the one she grew up in, and the novelty of being an old city. Then she moved to New Orleans to attend college. It was pretty much the same as Savannah. Only it had Mardi Gras and a football frenzy. Both cities were loud and alive. Bristol was neither of those things. Everyone minded their own business, and it was just quiet. Her parents didn't think she would last, but Abby was determined. Once she'd gotten there, she didn't know if she would ever leave.

It had been three days since she'd gotten there. Boxes of her things were already in the house. Her landlady was kind enough to have everything stored away in the house until Abby could get to England. In those three days, she tried to unpack everything, but she also underestimated just how much stuff she'd shipped ahead of her. For hours upon hours, she worked on unpacking and decorating every day. So far she'd only managed the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and part of the living room. Every room still housed quite a few boxes. The kitchen was the first because she knew she would certainly need food and coffee. The coffee was the most important. Her parents gifted her with some expensive coffee as a housewarming present. She managed to drink all of it within those three days. After three incredibly caffeinated days, she needed to get out of the house. More coffee was a good excuse to get out.

Pulling her coat on, she stepped out of the house and breathed in the fresh air. She needed it. She looked around. There were a few people milling around, and they hardly noticed the redhead as she started walking towards the market. As she passed them, she gave them polite smile and they did the same. Back in Savannah, her neighbors would smile politely at her, but then they would whisper behind her back about whatever. Sometimes it wasn't always about her. Sometimes it was about her parents or her "poor" aunt who had been ostracized from the Oglethorpe family. In New Orleans, the whispers were more about the company she kept. No one there knew a thing about her family so any gossip was actually all about her. In Bristol, they knew nothing about her or her life. They didn't really seem all that interested to begin with. She was just the new neighbor. There was, however, one set of neighbors - well, one neighbor really - who seemed terribly interested in everyone. She'd seen him over the past few days going to everyone's door and inviting them over to his place. He'd bypassed Abby's door. Apparently, he wasn't aware anyone had actually moved in. Or maybe he didn't want to disturb her. She was not sure, but she had been overlooked. Not that she really cared all that much. She was busy trying to make the place look a little bit more presentable. He was attractive so she wouldn't mind him showing up at her door. Just not when her hair was pulled back in a messy bun and all she had on was her Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and a Saints t-shirt.

Truth be told, she hadn't given much thought to the man since she'd seen him pass by her window. Not until she saw him and his housemate coming out of their little pink house. They were coming towards her, and like with everyone else, she smiled. She thought that would be the last of their interaction until they passed again on another day.

"You're new," she heard behind her.

For a moment, she almost didn't stop. It was said in passing but could be taken as a conversation starter. Still, she didn't want to seem too terribly rude so she turned around. The two men were turned to her, though the taller one with the glasses looked a little mortified. The other man – the one she'd seen before – had a pleasant smile on his face. Abby nodded. "Um...yeah. I am."

"I'm Mitchell." He extended a gloved hand before referring to his friend. "And this is George."

"Abby." Taking his hand, she shook it. She looked at the other man, and it took him a second to hold his hand out for her as well.

"How long have you been here?" Mitchell asked.

"Three days," she answered.

"Three-" Mitchell paused and took a deep breath. "I can't believe I didn't ask you over for tea the other day."

"It's alright. I probably wouldn't have been able to make it. Busy unpacking and all that," she shrugged.

Mitchell shook his head. "Still, that doesn't seem right. You should come over tonight. Have dinner with us. George is an excellent cook."

"Oh I wouldn't want to put you out," she told him. Her good southern upbringing demanded that she at least give them a way to back out of the invitation.

"Nonsense. We would love to have you," Mitchell insisted. Although, it looked like George really was not amused by the sudden invitation. He probably would have taken her up on rescinding the invitation.

"Only if I can bring dessert." And her good southern upbringing also demanded that she offer to make something if they were going to make dinner.

"Of course. Whatever you want," Mitchell nodded with a grin. "Wicked. What time do you think you'd be able to come over?"

"Around seven? I'm about to run some errands, but those shouldn't take too long." She was trying to be courteous. Seven seemed like a good enough time, and Mitchell didn't seem too put off by it either.

"Great! We'll see you then, Abby. You did say your name was Abby, right?" Mitchell asked.

George gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes she did. Come on, Mitchell. We have to get to work."

Mitchell turned to his friend and nodded before saying goodbye to Abby. She wasn't exactly sure what had just happened, but she knew she needed to go get stuff to make dessert for dinner along with coffee. Hours later Abby stood in front of the mirror with a scowl on her face. Was wearing a dress too much? It seemed like it, even though it wasn't anything more than a simple blue sundress. Once paired with a leather jacket and a pair of boots however, it felt more like something she would wear on a date. For a moment, she almost believed she had. Still, there wasn't much time for a full wardrobe change. The timer in the kitchen went off. She was due over at George and Mitchell's soon. She would have to settle on the dress. With a deep - almost defeated - sigh, she went into the kitchen. The house smelled amazing. It reminded her of her grandmother's house. Even when there wasn't anything in the oven, the entire house would smell like there was, and it usually smelled like apple pie. When she was a kid, she thought it was magic. It only turned out to be scented candles in almost every room. Taking the pie from the oven, she smiled. It turned out perfect. Well, if she had anything going for her, it was the she was good at baking.

Mitchell kept staring at the clock as George and Annie worked on dinner. George was still a little miffed at him for inviting the new girl. Annie was excited even though she knew she'd never be seen by the redhead. Still, it'd be a nice change of pace. He didn't know why he was so anxious to have her over. Abby was just another neighbor. Having her over was a step in the right direction. Just another way to fully immerse the three of them in the pool of humanity. The best way to pass as human was to act human. But then he'd catch himself remembering her hair. How it shined in the sunlight, how brilliant it was. And her smile. It was a great smile. Kind. He was excited at the prospect of a new friend as well. He sighed as he tore his eyes away from the clock. She'd be there soon.

"Do you fancy her?" Annie asked. She'd been watching Mitchell.

"I don't know her," he shrugged. "She seems nice, though."

"I can't wait to meet her," the ghost beamed, even though she knew their guest wouldn't be able to see her.

"Well if you ask me, it's risky. Too risky," George spoke up.

"It's just dinner, George," Annie scoffed.

"For Mitchell, she might end up dinner," George murmured.

"Oi!" Mitchell protested. "I'm doing the best I can. I think this will really help. Besides, she's only lucky she's not coming over during a full moon."

"That's...that's not fair! I've only changed here the one time!" George's voice went up an octave.

"Just don't make her feel too terribly unwelcome. Be cool about it." That's what Mitchell was going to do at least. Well, he was going to try. This Abby girl made him a little nervous. Hopefully, that wouldn't come off during dinner. He at least wanted to make a better impression than bumbling idiot. There was a knock on the door, and the three of them went to the door. Mitchell reached for the doorknob, opening the door. There she was. The most beautiful ginger hair with the sweetest smile on her face. And holding the most delicious smelling pie. He smiled right back at her.

"Hello, Abby," Mitchell greeted.

"Hi!" she beamed. "I brought dessert."

"That's so sweet," Annie cooed.

Neither Mitchell nor George acknowledged Annie. Instead, Mitchell took the pie and excused himself to put it in the kitchen. She was gorgeous, and Mitchell already knew he was in trouble. They'd only just met. Leaning against the counter, he breathed out slowly. He needed to get a grip on himself. He pushed off the counter to check the food in the oven. She made him a little nervous. Out of himself and George, he never thought he'd be the one to get all choked up over someone so quickly. He knew he could at least go out there and carry on a conversation with her. He didn't feel the hunger when he was around her. Usually he felt it around any woman he found attractive. The part of his brain that immediately went to sex would associate the high of the act with feeding. That's how he did it for decades. That's what happened with Lauren. He hadn't felt it with Abby, but he couldn't deny the attraction to her. She was different, though. He wanted to know everything about her.

"Mitchell!" George whispered sharply.

He turned to look at his friend. George had Annie in tow as he marched up to Mitchell. The vampire raised his eyebrows. "It's rude to leave her alone in there."

"She can see Annie!" the taller man pointed towards the ghost.

Well this was surprising. Mitchell glanced towards the living room, and his stomach churned a little bit. It would just figure there would be something about her. "Does she seem...does she act like she knows anything?"

This gave George pause. "Well, no..."

"Then let's not jump to conclusions. Let's feel her out first before we do something rash." Mitchell spoke calmly, though there was a twisting in his gut.

"Maybe I can be seen now," Annie shrugged. "I've been doing better. Maybe she can see me."

"Yeah," Mitchell nodded. "So she can see Annie. So what?" George opened his mouth to say something, but Mitchell shook his head. "We're being rude to Abby. Can we just enjoy tonight?" He didn't give George a chance to respond, brushing past him to go into the living room. Abby smiled when she saw him. "Sorry about that."

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

"What? No. They know I'm crap at cooking. They were just checking to see if everything was okay." He shrugged.

"Way to go, Abby. Another mark in the narcissist column," she chuckled.

"Nah," he shook his head. "Natural reaction."

"So how long have you guys been living together?" she asked.

"Well, Mitchell and George have been living together for about a year or so. I'm fairly recent." Annie smiled.

"I think my parents would have died if I told them I was going to move in with two men. They weren't too happy about my moving in with my boyfriend while I was in college," Abby giggled. "My parents are extremely old fashioned."

Mitchell pondered her words. Her parents were old fashioned. Vampires said that when they pretended to still have parents or if they were faking a family unit to live amongst humans. He'd uttered the words once or twice himself over the decades, usually before ripping someone's throat out. He still wasn't getting anything from her, though. If she was something supernatural, he would feel it. And he just wasn't getting anything from her. So maybe she actually meant that her parents were old fashioned. There were still people in the world who held to certain ideals and views of the world. Perhaps her parents were really like that.

"So are my parents to an extent," Annie told Abby. "But eventually they gave in to my shacking up with my fiancé."

"Oh you're engaged?" Abby was genuinely interested. She hadn't noticed a ring on Annie's finger.

"I…was…" Annie looked down a little sadly.

"I'm sorry to hear that." And Abby left it at that. It wasn't her place to delve into Annie's personal life. They'd only just met. "My boyfriend and I broke up a few weeks after we had graduated college. It was a mutual thing, but it still hurt like hell. Probably why I needed to get away. New Orleans started to feel a little foreign, and my family back home kept giving me these sympathetic looks like I hadn't agreed Eli and I should break up in the first place."

"You went to school in New Orleans. That's cool," Mitchell smiled at him. He'd heard so much about New Orleans from other vampires over the years, and he knew Abby would not know much about it. At least, she probably wouldn't know much about the actual vampire world. She would only know about the Hollywood version of that world.

"I did. I wanted to get as far away from Savannah as I could, but I only managed to get to New Orleans," she shrugged.

"What was wrong with Savannah?" George asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing really except…" Abby paused for a moment. She didn't know if she should get into the whole being an Oglethorpe thing and having everything handed to her without her working for it. Still, she felt as if she were making friends. Honestly, they probably wouldn't care about her last name at all. "Okay. This is going to sound a little strange. Most people don't really understand why I would want to leave because of this. I come from the founding family of Savannah, and the entire town makes a big deal out of it, especially my family. I needed to go somewhere that people wouldn't just give me things because my last name is Oglethorpe."

"Wow," George mused.

"I really wish it wasn't like that. I mean, it's nice sometimes when I can get free drinks at bars, but that's pretty much it," she shrugged.

A ding was heard from the kitchen and Annie scurried out of the room. Then she stuck her head out. "Dinner is ready if you three want to start making your way in here. You'll have to forgive the smallness of the kitchen. It's cozy."

Everyone stood up and Mitchell gestured for Abby to go on ahead before him. George did as well. She didn't wait for them to tell her again. She followed Annie into the kitchen. She liked the size of the kitchen. It was small and cozy, and she liked that. Abby had grown up in a huge house with a huge kitchen and a huge dining room table that she ate dinner at every night for nearly eighteen years. When she'd gotten away from that, it was almost a relief of sorts. Once everyone was in the kitchen, Mitchell sort of stumbled in front of Abby to pull her chair out for her. He wasn't quite sure just how old fashioned Abby was. It was just good manners he supposed. Abby sat down, smiling up at him. She seemed oblivious to it, but Annie and George gave each other knowing looks and Mitchell certainly was not oblivious to it.

The meal had been wonderful. Abby was full beyond belief, and her head might have been a little fuzzy from the wine. The four of them sat in the kitchen around the table with mugs of coffee, though Annie didn't touch hers. Abby figured she was just blending in. Maybe she wasn't a coffee drinker. They all seemed to enjoy the pie she'd made. Although, once again, Annie hadn't touched that either. She hadn't touched any food for that matter, but Abby just shrugged that off too. She knew this girl in school who was strange about eating around people. Of course, she had an eating disorder too. Abby was never one to just assume that sort of thing about anyone. It was impolite. Some people simply had weird quirks. She figured that's why Annie wasn't eating or drinking in front of everyone.

As she stretched a little in her chair, she noticed the clock on the wall. "Oh shit. Look at the time. I should probably head out. I have a lot of unpacking to do, and I might need to think about looking for a job soon."

"Your parents aren't going to send you money?" Mitchell asked with a teasing tone in his voice.

"I've asked them not to, but I'm pretty sure they will anyways," she shrugged. "I'll just save it I think."

"I think that is very sensible," George spoke up. His words were a little slurred from the wine.

Abby nodded. "I think so too. Maybe I'll donate it all to charity or squander it on something stupid. Just to keep my parents on their toes. Anyways, thank you for the lovely evening, but I probably should be getting home." She started to stand a little shakily.

Mitchell stood as well, putting a hand on her elbow to keep her steady. The first thing he thought about was she probably did not need to be walking around at night alone. Not after what Lauren had done to the last girl he'd been seen with. He probably needed to walk her home. Just to make sure she made it safely. "Let me walk you home."

"You don't have too. It's literally just across the way," Abby shook her head.

"I insist. You never know what could happen between here and there," he smiled.

She stared up at him for a second before nodding. "Yeah. Alright. That would be nice. Thanks."

Annie and George stood as well. They all walked to the front door where Mitchell helped Abby into her coat. "You'll have to come back soon," Annie told her with a smile.

"Definitely, and you guys are more than welcome to come see me. Like I said, I'm just across the way. I could use the company, especially if I can't find a job quickly." Abby wrapped her scarf around her neck.

Then she and Mitchell were off. The short walk was a quiet one. The two of them enjoyed the silence. Once they were in front of her door, Abby smiled up at him. "I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you for inviting me."

"You're very welcome," he smiled back at her.

"Oh and if you ever want to borrow Titanic, you know where to find me." Her smiled turned into a grin. She was shocked to hear that he had never watched Titanic in full. Until she'd met Mitchell, she was sure there weren't many people who hadn't seen it. Then again, she supposed he fell into that category. "Goodnight, Mitchell. And thank you again." She kissed his cheek. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'll be sure to stop by for that movie and possibly just to bug you. Goodnight, Abby."


	2. Chapter 2: Closer

_**Hey, lovelies! So I've been horrible when it comes to updating any of my fics. I do apologize. I have been working a lot lately. I do get chances to write, but those are also my chances to just pass out. I choose the latter so I work a little bit on writing and then I just go to sleep. That is why it has taken me so long to get this chapter up. Anywho, the following people get lots of love for following/favoriting/reviewing the last chapter:**_ ** _lunabloodmoon666, SongbirdAnnie, FiliandKili'sGirl18, Sweet Sprinks, aishap, kaylee Adkins loves 1D, zuzzzu, lula. , lilycullen1997, Bienniel, Angel-But-A-Demon, Forever Fanfiction Lover22. You guys are amazing and I love you bunches! Here's the new chapter._**

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Abby had given up on unpacking for the day. Instead she decided to read. Sitting on the couch, she opened her book. She was really in no hurry to unpack anymore. She'd been there a full week. Most of the things she needed in a dire situation were already unpacked. Eventually, everything would be taken out of the boxes. Until then, she was perfectly content with what she had out. Her eyes scanned over the pages until she found where she had left out. She'd started her day like she normally did. She had her coffee and stayed in her pajamas. Propping her feet up, she prepared herself to continue sitting in that spot for a while.

A couple of hours passed, and Abby had lost herself completely in the story. She was reading Mary Barton, something she had to read for school. If there was one thing she hated about being an English major in college, it was that she couldn't read anything for enjoyment. Her brain automatically tried to analyze everything she picked up. It was sad when she would do it with a shampoo bottle in the middle of showering. Now that she was finished with school, she was getting to enjoy many of the things she couldn't have. This particular novel was one of those she was assigned to read in school. From what she remembered of the novel, she figured she would enjoy reading it once her brain stopped overthinking everything. She was right. She did enjoy it more than she had in school. Her ex-boyfriend almost always told her she wouldn't enjoy something she put in her read again list. He said it would be a major waste of time to go back to read something for the hell of it. If she didn't enjoy it while reading it for class, there just wasn't a point. Of course, Abby knew that there were more reasons to why she and Eli broke up than their relationship having run its course. There were a whole list of trivial things. Then there was the one thing she promised him that she would never tell anyone. It wasn't anything like he had a drug problem or that he beat her. It wasn't even that he was gay like many of her friends back in Savannah suggested. No, it was just something she knew he didn't want everyone to know. If they knew, they would string him up as an example for everyone to see. Abby didn't want that. She still cared about him enough to protect him from humanity and its constant need to destroy anything they did not understand.

Sometimes she found herself wondering what Eli might be up to. There were some things that were given. She knew his routine and habits like her own. Mostly because there were certain aspects of her daily routine that still mimicked his even after their split. They were hard habits to break. Eli liked his coffee as much as Abby did so it was a given that at any point during the day, Abby could guess they were having a cup of coffee at the same time. During the midafternoon, Eli liked to have a cigarette. It didn't matter where he was or what he was doing, Eli was going to excuse himself, nip out of wherever he was, and have a cigarette. He wasn't even that big of a smoker, but that's when the urge would hit him. For Abby, his cigarette break would be right around the time she was cleaning up for dinner and possibly settling in to chat with a friend from home. And when it was time for Eli to go for drinks with his friends, Abby was getting ready for bed or already asleep.

When it came to Abby's feelings for Eli, she did not equate wondering about him as still loving him. She supposed some part of her would always love him, but there were things that she couldn't ignore, things that made love for him seem like too strong of a word. She cared for him, but she couldn't really bring herself to love him anymore. Too much had happened between them. Just because they ended things amicably and on a good note, it didn't mean that things didn't get messy and dramatic. Eli was usually the cause of the mess and the drama. Abby usually was left to clean it up because he would disappear for a couple of days. Then he would come back, begging for forgiveness he knew she would give, and things would be back to normal until the next catastrophe. It was a pattern. It was unhealthy. She grew tired of it. Whatever future she thought she could see with him prior to the two of them moving in together, it went by the wayside very quickly. She couldn't trust him to stick around and so she couldn't trust him with any plans. They were not something she took lightly.

When Abby sat down to read, it was just past one in the afternoon. She hadn't eaten lunch yet because she'd gotten a late start to her morning. Plus, she'd had her coffee and coffee always made her feel less hungry. But as she sat there with her book, her stomach had started to become more and more insistent on getting food. Her coffee was empty so she couldn't quell the pangs in her stomach. She couldn't even bargain with herself that she'd grab lunch after a few more pages. Those few pages turned into a hundred easily, and her stomach was not having it anymore. Abby lost focus on the pages so she gave in. Going into the kitchen, she dug around for something quick to eat because she wasn't sure she'd be patient enough to wait. She found one of those meals in a bag that she could throw in the microwave. Fettuccini alfredo. Perfect. It would be quick and at least edible enough. She set it on a plate, getting ready to put it in the microwave, but she was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. She quickly put the plate in the microwave and turned it on before rushing to the front door. Honestly, she only knew of three people who might be knocking on her door. She'd only met three of her neighbors so she expected to see Mitchell, Annie, or George standing on the other side of the door.

"Mitchell! Hi!" she beamed as she greeted him. Abby would have to be honest with herself later that she was a little more excited to see Mitchell than she would have been if it were his two housemates.

"Hello, Abby," he smiled back at her. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"Nah," she shook her head. "Come in. Take your coat off. It's mostly warm in here."

He nodded as he stepped through the door. Abby took note of just a bit of hesitance in him, but she shrugged it off. He handed his coat to her, which she hung up by the door on a hook. Mitchell looked around the room. He hadn't taken her as someone to unpack slowly. She'd already seemed so at home, but there were boxes pushed against the walls. "How are you liking it so far?"

"I love it," she told him.

"Does that mean you're staying for a good long while?" he teased.

"Yeah. Might as well. It'll drive my mom nuts at least," she giggled.

He chuckled at her response. Then he heard the microwave beep in the kitchen. "I won't be here long. I was actually just coming over to see if I could borrow Titanic."

"You don't have to run off, Mitchell." Abby was a little unsure as to why she was telling him to stay a bit longer except that she wanted to spend time with him. Then again, she figured it might have something to do with the fact that she really hadn't stopped thinking about him since dinner. That was three days prior. He would creep into her thoughts, and when she thought she'd shaken him for a while, he'd come back. He was tall and mysterious. Unfortunately for Abby, that was something she was drawn to. She was too good at reading people. Whenever she found someone who puzzled her even a little, they stuck in her brain.

Her words brought another smile to Mitchell's face. "I suppose I could stay for a bit."

"Awesome. I was just making something to eat so now I don't have to eat alone. That is if you're hungry. If not, I can make some coffee and you can watch me go against almost every bit of manners my parents taught me." She headed into the kitchen to retrieve her food.

"I could go for something to eat," he nodded, following her. If Abby hadn't been able to stop thinking about Mitchell, the same thing could very well be said about him. There was something about her that drew her to him, but at the same time, he needed to figure her out. She could see Annie, spoke to the ghost as if she were there in the flesh. It had been determined that no one else could see Annie, but Abby could. Mitchell still didn't get any supernatural vibes from the redhead so she perplexed him. He needed to know what or who she was.

"I hope microwaved pasta is alright. I wasn't expecting company," she told him as she opened the bag. Taking a fork, she stirred the contents around.

Mitchell playfully let out a shocked gasp. "I am hurt, Abby! I cook you a very nice meal and you serve me a frozen dinner basically."

Rolling her eyes, she looked over at him. "Please. We both know that Annie and George cooked dinner. Like I said, I didn't know I would be sharing."

"I'll forgive you for now, and you are right. Annie and George cooked dinner," he smiled.

They sat down for their meal, and unlike at Mitchell's, they ate in silence. It was a comfortable silence for which Abby was thankful for. Something about Mitchell put her at ease. She felt rather calm even though he also had a tendency of making her heart race. Abby knew the feeling all too well. She'd felt it with Eli, and that should have been a bad sign considering she found out what it was about Eli that put her at ease. It should have made her stop and withdraw herself from the situation. But Abby had a tendency of not listening to any warnings. Doing what she wanted was part of her nature.

"Are you alright?" Mitchell asked after a moment.

She hadn't realized she was staring into space; just past his head at the wall behind him. Shaking her head, she smiled as she finished her plate of pasta. "Yeah. I'm fine. I haven't had much coffee today so I'm not as alert as I usually am."

"I can make you some," he offered.

"Oh you don't have to do that. I can make some after I clean up," she told him.

"Then let me help with that?" He asked as if she would absolutely refuse him. Of course, she had insisted to help clean up while at his place. Something about the way she was brought up. That's what she told him at least.

She tilted her head to the side. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

"Nope," he shook his head.

"Alright," she nodded. "You can help. When you finish eating."

"I'm done," he started to stand, taking her plate.

The two of them sat on the couch; both with a mug of coffee in hand. The sun outside was setting, and they had lost themselves in conversation. They talked about their childhoods. Well, Abby did mostly. Mitchell couldn't really get into his own childhood for obvious reasons. He couldn't just go on about how he was raised. He found Abby incredibly interesting. Of course, he wanted to know why it was that she could see Annie when no one else really could. Not after her last relapse. Yet Abby could see her perfectly. He'd done a little research into where she was from. He knew enough about New Orleans from other vampires to know the media was not far off when it came to the supernatural there. Savannah, on the other hand, was not a place he was entirely familiar with. What Mitchell found was something quite interesting. There were stories of ghosts, every inch of the place being haunted by some sort of spirit. He didn't know what that meant in regards to Abby being able to see Annie. He wondered if maybe her time in New Orleans played a part in it.

"So tell me about where you're from," Mitchell said after a pause in the conversation.

"Savannah?" she looked over at him. "Well, it's almost like two different cities really. There's the historic district which is where I grew up and went to school. It's beautiful with all these old houses and squares. It's a tourist attraction really, but then there's just Savannah. It looks like any other city. As much as I wanted to get away from there, I love it."

"I bet there are some stories about the historic district, aren't there?" he asked.

She nodded. "Oh yeah. One of the biggest things they use to sell the place is the fact that it's the most haunted cities in the States. Or so they claim."

"Do you not believe in it?" he tilted his head to the side.

"Would you call me crazy if I said I did? I mean, I grew up in a house that has several unexplained occurrences attached to it. I even have some of my own experiences. I'm not sure I can really say I don't. My parents probably wish I would." She shrugged.

"Have you felt anything here?" he asked.

"Once or twice. Nothing substantial. I thought I had at your house actually," she told him. "I dunno. I can't tell you how prominent it was in New Orleans. I guess once you're exposed to it you feel it everywhere you go." She looked down and noticed both of their mugs were empty. "Would you like some more coffee?"

"I'd like some, but I'm not sure I need more at the moment," he smiled up at her.

"Tough. You're getting some anyways," she told him. Looking around a second, something popped into her mind. "Oh! I should get that DVD for you so you can take it with you when you go home."

"You know, I haven't even thought about that," he chuckled. "Not since I got here. You're very distracting."

"That a good thing or a bad thing?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

"It's a good thing. Honest," he smiled.

She nodded as she went over to her shelf with all of her DVDs on it. Grabbing on of them, she took it over to him. "Here you go. Titanic. If you watch it with Annie, make sure you have a few boxes of tissues. She'll likely cry the entire time."

He laughed. "Can I watch it here then? I love her, but if she's going to cry…"

"If you would like," she nodded. "You're certainly more than welcome. Might want to take it in shifts, you know, since it's long." She grabbed his mug from him as well as her own. She disappeared into the kitchen before coming back with the mugs refilled. "We can start today if you'd like."

"Only if you aren't busy. I don't want to impose," he told her. "Certainly don't want to take up all of your time if you've made more friends."

"No other plans," she told him.


	3. Chapter 3: Even If I Wanted To

_Hey, guys and dolls! I hope everyone is having a wonderful day! I have been trying to get a new chapter up forever, but work and lack of inspiration has not been cooperative. Inspiration finally did strike, and now work is cooperating (because now I am not working - don't ask). Anyways, I knew I was really close to finishing this chapter before I took a little break from it. I couldn't figure out just where I wanted it to go and how it would get there. I finally sat down today and just started writing. So here is the final product of maybe two hours worth of faffing about with the chapter. I hope it makes sense, and I hope everyone enjoys it. Like with my other stories, I would like to thank the following people for favoriting/following/reviewing the last chapter: CalaisForever, Shazzaroo332, The mad wolf, CrazyDarkness15, and StTudnoBright. You are amazing people and I love you for the support you have shown my story._

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Sitting next to Mitchell again, Abby sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "You know, you haven't really told me much about yourself."

Mitchell shrugged nonchalantly. "There isn't much to tell. I'm originally from Ireland. Not much in the way of family. None that I associate with or that cares to associate with me."

"And that's it?" her eyebrow rose. Mitchell was a little unsure if she bought that.

"Pretty much. You know everything else. I clean up shit and piss at the hospital, live with Annie and George. Not all that exciting I'm afraid." He looked over at her, sipping his coffee. "You, though, you're fascinating."

Shaking her head, she pulled up the sleeve on the cardigan she was wearing. At first, Mitchell paid very little attention, but two puncture marks on her wrist caught his eye. He should have ran the second he saw them. They were too similar to teeth marks, like she'd been bitten. Whoever bit her missed just shy of the artery there. Then again, someone might not have bitten her. That was always an option. He sure hoped it was.

"How did you get those?" He pointed his chin towards her wrist.

She looked down, and Mitchell watched as her eyes grew infinitesimally wider before she quickly covered her wrist again. "Oh. I got them when I was a kid. My grandmother has rose bushes and I fell into it. The thorns got me." She explained it so coolly for someone who practically yanked her sleeve down, but it was also a lie. Mitchell eyed her for a moment. He wasn't going to pry. Still, it was very suspicious. "So what do you think about starting this movie?" she asked.

"Yeah. Let's start the movie," he nodded, taking it upon himself to get up and place the DVD in the player. He tried to not think about the two puncture scars, but they weighed heavily on him. If she had been bitten by a vampire, he wondered who it was. They cared about her enough to stop themselves. That was for sure, and how they just missed the artery. It must have been someone she was close to.

"So how did you live through the nineties and not see this movie? I feel like it's one of those movies that people should suffer through at least once." She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "I can remember watching for the first time at a friend's house during a sleepover. Her parents actually fast forwarded through the sex scene because we were like eight at the time. She was very sheltered like all the rest of the wealthy kids." She rolled her eyes.

Mitchell chuckled. It fascinated him how antiquated some of her parents' beliefs were, and it seemed that her friends were the same. "So do you parents believe in dowries and marrying rich? Do they think other people are peasants or something?"

"Pretty much," she nodded. "They would like for me to marry rich, but they don't believe in dowries. As long as I am well taken care of and never have to work a day in my life for it, they're okay with that."

"And you absolutely cannot stand that idea, can you?" he chuckled.

She shook her head. "Not at all."

"I like that about you," he said. "You don't seem to care much for what is expected of you."

"I have an aunt who is the same way. She's the black sheep of the family. She didn't get married, no kids. Just does what she wants," she told him.

"Is that what you want in life?" he asked.

"What I want is to make my own decisions, rely on myself to get the things I want. My mother has never worked for anything. She was born into a wealthy family. She married rich. Half of the time, I'm not so sure she even really loves my dad. Hell, I'm not sure he loves her."

"And that's what you want?" He tilted his head to the side.

"I don't want an empty marriage based solely on money. I want to know the person beside me truly loves me." Her fingers found the scar on her wrist where they idly traced them.

"Did you have that?" The attention her fingertips gave her scar caught his own. He wondered if her ex had been taken from her. She had mentioned him at dinner the other night. He wondered if whatever truly happened to her wrist had something to do with him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "But the relationship ran its course. Eli and I both knew that."

He tilted his head to the side. "I'm sorry to hear that. To be a little honest, though, I am a little happy about that. You and I wouldn't have met."

"That's very true." They'd only just met, but Abby felt as if they were supposed to. Well obviously they were. Eli was very much stuck in New Orleans. She loved it there, but she didn't want to always stay there.

Mitchell took her hand in his. He held her hand and realized he liked how small his hand was compared to his. He liked how they fit together. His thumb traced over the back of her hand. Abby stared down at their hand. It fascinated her in a way, and she felt the butterflies. And then Mitchell tilted her head back up so she was looking at him. His lips brushed against hers. His hand shook slightly. Mitchell hadn't been that nervous around a girl in a very long time, and his kiss was tentative. It was slow, shy, but kind of exhilarating as well. She tasted faintly of vanilla and coffee. She was intoxicating, and he didn't want to break the kiss at all. He just wanted to keep drinking her in until he was absolutely dizzy from lack of oxygen. But he had to pull away from her. This kind of closeness never led to anything good with him. Everything with Lauren and now the consequences of his last second decision to save her. Then the whole Becca fiasco that resulted from it. He couldn't let Abby fall victim to his world. Not even for a second. Still, he found himself becoming addicted to her warmth, how her lips felt against his. He wanted to be as selfish with the moment as he could be. He brought her wrist up to his lips, and they curled into a smirk when she gasped as he kissed over the scars there.

Swallowing thickly, he finally managed to separate himself from her. "I really should go."

"You don't have to," she said it quickly, hand going to his.

"I don't want to, but if I don't, Abby…." he sighed."I'm not someone you really want to get mixed up with. Not like that."

"Shouldn't I be the judge of that, Mitchell?" Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Of course you should, but I should at least warn you," he told her. "You're a really nice girl, and I don't want you to end up getting hurt."

She bit her lip, eyes going to the scar on her wrist. "I have been hurt before, Mitchell. It wouldn't be anything new to me."

"That doesn't mean that you should just welcome it, especially not with me." He scooted away from her, placing his head in his hands.

Tentatively putting her hand on his back, she sighed. "Look. I understand that this is all so fast. I get that, and I'm not looking for some meaningful relationship just yet. We just met so we can go at whatever speed. Just don't keep me at arm's length after that kiss. It really isn't fair."

He looked up at her, smirk present on his face. "What about the kiss?"

"It was nice, and it would be really unfair if you're having second thoughts about it," she looked down, eyebrows furrowing.

To say her reaction surprised him was an understatement. Maybe some part of her knew he was bad news, but the fact that she was calling him on it did shock him a little. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. He would stay if it meant he got to feel her warmth again. Truthfully, he didn't know where he saw any of it going with Abby. If she were smart, she'd let him push her away and never look back. But if she were brave, she'd let him test the waters of whatever they were to be. Because she was right about one thing, they were meant to know one another. And no matter how much he hoped she was smarter than she was braver, he couldn't deny that one fact.

His hands went back to hers, and he pulled her close again. His arms wrapped around her. "If you tell me to stay, I may never leave, Abigail. Are you sure you're prepared for that?"

"Stick around, and I guess we'll see, won't we?" she grinned.

"You really are a stubborn one, aren't you?" he chuckled.

"My ex always said that I could argue with a wall and win," she shrugged. "So you came over to borrow a movie and score a free meal. Anything else you would like to do since you aren't leaving?"

"I dunno," he breathed. "Figured I would just let you choose now. It is your place after all."

"We could cuddle," she suggested. "See where it goes from there."

"If you want," he nodded. "Honestly, that sounds kinda nice. Not something I get asked to do very often."

She pouted, bottom lip poking out slightly. "Then we absolutely should."

"I agree," he nodded again.

Standing up, she giggled softly. "You look like you would be really good at it."

He stood as well. "Not sure about that, but you're probably better at it I imagine. Warmer."

"And squishier," she added as she took his hand and started leading him towards her room. "I have boobs."

"Those do help," he grinned, trying hard not to glance down at her chest. He failed. "Where are you taking me by the way?"

"The couch is too small. Figured you wouldn't mind a few cuddles in the bed." She shrugged, dropping his hand to climb on the bed.

Mitchell joined her. Lying next to her, he felt his need for blood rise only a little, but he was able to fight through it. Abby's warmth welcomed him, and he wrapped his arms around her loosely. She brought her hand up to his cheek. Leaning into her touch, he sighed contently. God he hadn't felt so comfortable in a long time. He kissed her cheek. She was someone he needed to keep close, but he wanted to keep her safe from his world, from himself. Moving his kiss to her lips, he pulled her even closer. She returned the kiss with no hesitation. It quickly turned heated, and he felt that need rise again. He could feel the point of his fangs against his lips, scared she might be able to as well. He didn't want to pull away. He knew he needed to. He felt her press even closer to him, again, and he knew he needed to stop the madness she caused in him. Pulling back, he tried to hide his face from her. She didn't need to see what he was hiding, yet she stopped him.

"Let me see," she told him. That gave him, pause. She didn't ask what was wrong. She didn't back away quickly like others did. She asked to see, and he let her. His eyes were black. And once again, she didn't pull away. She brought her hand to his cheek. "Oh, Mitchell."

When she tried to pull him into a hug, he finally disconnected himself from her completely. "What the hell are you doing?! Why aren't…why aren't you screaming your head off or telling me to get out?"

"Because I…" her eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion.

He blinked a few times, and the darkness in his eyes disappeared. "You're mad."

"You didn't let me finish," she told him. Sighing, she showed him the scar on her wrist. "Ask me about it again."

"Why? So you can tell me some bullshit story about a rosebush? You were attacked," he told her.

"No I wasn't," she shook her head. "Eli…my eyes…he's just like you."

"He's a vampire?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "He didn't attack me. I let him, bite me. He had to." Taking a deep breath, she looked down. "This is why you wanted to go, huh?"

"I can hurt you," he gave her a pained look.

"You could, but I really don't think you will. You would have by now. The fact that you didn't just now says a lot." She took his hand. "I probably shouldn't trust you, but I do."

Mitchell looked down at her hand in his. He wasn't sure if she knew all along or if she had only just figured it out. He didn't care. There was a decision to be made. Now that she knew, he'd have to see if she would keep her mouth shut if he cut his ties. Or he could be selfish and keep her to himself. The decision was simple for him. Indulge. Be selfish. See where something with Abby might go.

"Mitchell," she breathed after he hadn't said anything after a bit. "If you really want to go, there's the door. I won't beg you to stay. Just know that I'm not going to judge you because of who you once were. It's who you are right now that matters to me."

"That's just it, Abby. I have to fight who I am now daily. Sometimes I don't win that battle. Actually, a lot of the time I don't win." He sighed, getting up to pace the floor. "But I don't want to go either."

"Then don't go," she told him as she got off the bed to stand in front of him. She took his hand in hers and looked up at him. "You honestly cannot hurt me more that I've already been hurt. Eli always said I made him better; that I helped him be as good as he could be. Let me help you." She brought her hand up to his cheek. "I want to do that for you."

He wanted so badly to let her be that bit of hope for him, like Josie had been. But Mitchell didn't know how he would ever manage to be anything other than a monster. His relationship with Josie may have ended amicably, but it wasn't long after their separation that his true nature was starting to shine through. His arms wrapped around her tightly, and he pulled her into a somewhat desperate embrace. It sounded like such a bad idea to enter into anything with her, and it might have sounded a little crazy to immediately jump into that sort of relationship with her. But Mitchell honestly didn't care. There was this beautifully amazing girl in front of him, offering her heart to him, and he would have been a fool to pass it up. He would deal with the consequences as they came. For that moment, he refused to let her go. And when she wrapped her own arms around him, he melted into it "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Shaking her head, she kissed pressed a soft yet chaste kiss to his lips. "Don't apologize for anything, Mitchell."

"I feel like should. For anything I'm undoubtedly going to put you through," he murmured against her lips.

"As I said, don't apologize. I know what all you are capable of. It doesn't scare me." She hugged him closer to her. "So you're staying?"

"I don't think I could leave you alone even if I really wanted to," he admitted.


End file.
